


H-Lane. For all your home-based personal needs

by devera



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M, Prostitution, Roleplay, Same old Saiyuki warnings, no resemblance to canon whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devera/pseuds/devera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gojyo's met some weird ones before, but that's okay. Normal's overrated anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	H-Lane. For all your home-based personal needs

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a certain brilliant mind (cough*[](http://indelicateink.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://indelicateink.livejournal.com/) **indelicateink** *cough) and a certain picture she drew.
> 
> The first part is really kind of just crack. I wrote it because I was exploring the idea. But really, in the end, it's not terribly critical to the actual fic. I just left it in because I thought you might like to read it too.

 

 

> **Welcome to H-Lane. For all your home-based personal needs, with one click of a button**

> **Would you like:**
> 
>   * A product? o
>   * A service? ✗
> 


_Click on service. Page loads._

 

> **Please choose from our range of services:**
> 
> Home o  |  Personal o  |  Dating ✗

_Why on earth do they call it ‘dating’? Although, that being said, it’s probably hard to call it anything else._

 

> **Our dating service is a quality, to-your-door service. Our attendants are discreet, clean and non-judgemental. For the best possible service, please fill out the order form below. All efforts will be made to match your preferences.**
> 
> Male✗                   Female o                    Transgendered o                  Other (please specify) o
> 
> Note: If you are seeking a non-living service, please click on Personal Services in the above menu
> 
> **Please choose from the options below:**
> 
>   * Hand o
>   * Mouth o
>   * Body o
>   * Intercourse ✗
> 

> 
> **Please choose your preferred status:**
> 
>   * Being taken o
>   * Taking o
> 


_I_ _don’t suppose it matters either way, but I can’t very well pick both. Would that be double the price, do you think? Would I have to order twice? Then I might end up with two attendants. Or the same attendant on two separate occasions._

_Fine._

 

> **Please choose your preferred status:**
> 
>   * Being taken o
>   * Taking ✗
> 

> 
> **Please provide any other details you would like included in your order:**  
>  _____________________________________________________________  
>  _____________________________________________________________  
>  _____________________________________________________________
> 
> **When you are ready, ensure you have read our Terms and Conditions and selected Accept, then click the Submit button. We will then calculate your rate and email you a quote with an Engagement Script, proposed times and payment options. Thank you for choosing H-Lane.**
> 
> Terms and Conditions  o
> 
> Accept o
> 
>  
> 
> **Terms and Conditions**
> 
> Engagement with H-Lane attendants other than specified in the form is at the discretion of the customer and H-Lane is not to be held accountable for any emotional or psychological distress that any such engagement may result in. H-Lane attendants will observe the **Rules of Engagement** as specified in **Section 6** of this document at all times. Interaction time with H-Lane attendants is limited to the quote outline for which payment is considered agreement which is binding in a court of law.

_Huh. So I don’t have to talk to him if I don’t want to? But how do we- Oh. I see. How terribly clever. All right then, I accept your T and C._

 

> **When you are ready, ensure you have read our Terms and Conditions and selected Accept, then click the Submit button. We will then calculate your rate and email you a quote with proposed times and payment options. Thank you for choosing H-Lane.**
> 
> Terms and Conditions  o
> 
> Accept ✗

_Processing... Processing... Ah. There we go._

> **Thank you. Your order has been processed. Please have the correct money or a valid credit card ready. Your H-Lane attendant will be arrive shortly.**
> 
> **Should you have any queries in the meantime, please do not hesitate to email us.**
> 
> **Issues or dissatisfactions with H-Lane products must be directed through the Ombudsman.**  

_How terribly convenient. I wonder when he'll- Oh. There’s the door now._

++++

It’s cold, wet, he’s wearing the tightest Rio-Rio Cheerleaders outfit imaginable and the stockings are cutting into his thighs a little. But this guy is paying a small fortune and Gojyo is not in any way picky. He pulls off his coat and shakes it out in the hall, then lays it over his arm and pastes on a smile as he listens to the sound of someone shuffling around inside the apartment in response to the doorbell. Pretty soon, the sound of a lo-

Okay. The sound of two locks.

No, three.

Jesus. Six?

And then the door cracks open about an inch and all Gojyo can see is black hair, pale skin and an eye the colour of that gunk that grows in stagnant water and his cat’s bowl when he forgets to change it for too many days. The eye is peering at him. Maybe suspiciously? It’s kind of hard to tell without a face to go along with it.

“Hi,” Gojyo trills in his best Rio-Rio Jinny voice. He always liked Jinny. Sassy but not too dumb, always trying to do good but somehow always getting in with the bad. Also? Enormous tits. “I’m from H-Lane. You ordered a Stay-in Special?”

The eye looks at him, and then down, and then back up again. Gojyo reaches up and twirls a finger around a length of his hair – real, thanks – and smiles encouragingly. It always takes a minute for the stay-in specials to adjust. Fine with him. He’s on the clock and if they go over, they usually don’t mind paying a bit extra. In fact, most of the time they’re eager to pay for him to not go, which is why he didn’t log any other jobs for tonight.

“Uh, yeah,” the stay-in says finally. “Come in. Come in.”

The hair and the eye disappear and then the door starts to swing in. This is always the bit where Gojyo has to brace himself. Stay-in’s aren’t exactly known for clean and tidy living.

But to his surprise, once he’s inside and the door is closing behind him, this particular stay-in’s apartment isn’t at all like the others. It’s – Actually, it looks almost completely normal. Sure, there are an alarming amount of books stacked around the place, but rather than arranged in haphazard and possibly lethal towers of literature, they’re stacked neatly in shelves. A lot of shelves. Every spare inch of the place is covered in them. Wow. That is a lot of reading, and it’s not all fanboy fap material either. Murukami. McCarthy. Fucking _Dostoevsky_? And on another shelf, Jung, Joseph Campbell, Conrad. Gojyo keeps scanning the spines, and he’s somewhere around Norman Mailer when he decides that trying to work out exactly what criteria they’re alphabetised under will probably just make him go mad.

“Nice place,” he says, just for something to say, and hey, it also happens to be true. It looks more comfortable than his place, at least. “You got another room?” He starts to turn, making sure to go slow so that he doesn’t freak the guy out. Best to keep it easy, casual. Stay-ins can be a bit jumpy if you’re too pushy or intense. “I mean, we can do this anywhere you-“

He forgets what he’s saying the second he sets eyes on the guy, because, okay, okay. Also not what he was expecting. Not at all.

Mister Pays for in-room porn is, uh... He’s kind of. Wow. Hot.

“Something wrong?” the stay-in asks, frowning at him vaguely from under the dark fall of his fringe, and Jesus, Gojyo thinks again. Why is it always the nice guys that are the weirdos? Nice apartment though. No weird smells. And his hair is clean and his shirt is ironed. He’s even wearing pants, for fuck’s sake, and he looks really good in them, by the way.

Gojyo licks his lips, and he knows he’s staring. He knows he is but he can’t seem to quit it.

“Nothing,” he says. “Nothing’s wrong. You’re just...”

“What?” Hot stay-in says defensively.

“Hot,” Gojyo finishes helplessly, and shrugs. “Sorry. I just wasn’t... I mean, most of my clients are, um, less... Well, you don’t smell like week old Lawsons Pies, let's put it that way.”

“Oh,” the stay-in says, looking either relieved or disappointed, Gojyo can't actually be sure which. “I see.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Gojyo says again. “That wasn’t very professional of me. Allow me to introduce myself. My name’s Jinny. What’s yours?”

It’s a line straight out of the show’s dialogue. The stay-in stares at him like he’s some kind of alien.

“It said on the website that I didn’t have to talk if I didn’t want to,” he points out.

Gojyo takes a patient breath and pastes on another smile, less Rio-Rio and more client-facing-staff this time.

“Sure, that’s fine. Of course,” he says pleasantly. “But I need to tell you how this works, okay? You keep your clothes on and your hands to yourself, I’m on top, we use condoms at all times and you get what you pay for once only, so if you're premature, that's not my problem, right? I'll slow down or stop if you want me to, but you have to ask and if you want another go after, or any change to the contract, we negotiate on the site, okay? Payment is up front for all through-service invoices. How would you like to take care of that?”

“Uh...” Stay-in says, blinking at him, and even though he seemed to not want to talk, he’s still kind of talking. “A card’s okay?”

“Absolutely,” Gojyo agrees and reaches into his bag. “I got a reader right here.”

Stay-in hands Gojyo his card. Gojyo surreptitiously reads the name – Hakkai Cho – and swipes it and tries not to wonder what's made a guy like this too unstable to go outside. Gojyo would take a guy like this to all the nice places, he thinks. Someone this attractive shouldn't be hiding himself away from the world. It's just not right.

It takes a minute for the reader to connect to move the amount across from Cho's account to his, and while Gojyo watches it do its thing, Cho watches him. Gojyo can see him doing it out of the corner of his eye, and it should be kind of creepy – the guy's got this weird intense stare – but it really only makes Gojyo a little more than casually aware of how this outfit he's in feels on his body and how, under the skirt he's not wearing anything at all but stay up high-school stockings.

"Okay," he says finally, trying to keep his voice light even though the last couple of moments have seen his heart rate increase a few beats per minute. "We're done and your credit is good. Here you go."

He hands the card back to Cho, making sure to brush his fingers in the exchange, and it's gratifying to see Cho respond to the contact with a quick, startled look.

"So," Gojyo starts, dumping the reader back into his bag and pulling out a condom and his tube of lube. "Now that's taken care of, we can get down to actual business. Where would you like to do it?"

Cho looks around them, maybe a little nervously. Again, it's hard to be absolutely sure. His cues are a little off, and Gojyo finds he can't really read them with any certainty. He thinks Cho looks a little lost, but Gojyo's used to taking charge, especially with the stay-ins, so he supposes this time shouldn't be any different.

"Okay, here's what we do," he suggests. "Why don't you..." He looks around as well, spies a chair and a table (just the one) over in the corner near the covered up window. Looks sturdy enough, and unless there's a bed somewhere in here, it will have to do. "Why don't you go and sit down," he suggests, and then adds a breathy, "Sir," on the end, just to see if it will fly.

Fly it does. Cho's gaze jerks to his, his eyes big and round and green, and his pupils dilate and, oh yeah, okay. Gojyo can work with that. He can totally work with that. Rio-Rio Principal Garehorn is having a "private interview" with Jinny in his office, it seems. He's such a good principal. So worried about his young, sexy, slutty student cheerleaders.

Cho goes and sits down, and Gojyo follows him as he does. He casually puts the condoms and lube down on the table next to them and then looks at Cho from under downcast lashes and adopts a suitably contrite expression.

"I'm sorry, Mister Garehorn," he murmurs. "I've been bad. I know I have. I know you expected more out of me. But I can be good. I swear it to you. _Please_ don't cut me from the team."

Cho is just sitting there, staring up at him. His hands are resting on his thighs and he looks a little stunned. Hopefully that's because Gojyo is making all his fantasies come true right about now.

"What can I do?" Gojyo begs, dropping into a crouch in front of him and looking at Cho with wide, pleading eyes as he places a hand on Cho's thigh just below his own hand. Cho tracks him like his gaze is fixed. "What can I do to make it up to you? Please don't look at me like that. I only want you to smile when you look at me. Oh, Mister Garehorn!"

Mister Garehorn on the show would have ever had it so good, Gojyo thinks, as he throws himself up into Cho's lap and tangles his arms around his shoulders and proceeds to pretend to be utterly heartbroken about his terrible fall from grace. He presses his face against Cho's throat, and realises he smells good, but he'll think about that later. He might even think about it and jack off when he gets home. For now, he just nuzzles into the soft, sensitive hollows under Cho's chin and behind his ear, kissing gently, tonguing patches of skin and rubbing himself slowly and subtly against Cho's motionless body.

He doesn't let it worry him. Stay-ins just take a little more to get going sometimes. Hell, he's spent all night just getting them hard enough before. Not that that seems to be the case here. He's certainly responding where it counts, and Gojyo's not above taking advantage of that. He wriggles and murmurs again and again that he's sorry, that he didn't mean it. He shifts and kisses and presses and breathes and he gets into a little bit of a rhythm and soon enough, Cho's breathing has sped up, and he's turning his head towards Gojyo like maybe he'd kiss him if he could. Gojyo decides it's about time to clue him in on what it's really all about and grinds down on his erection, and then does it again.

Cho gasps in his ear and Gojyo feels his hands slide tentatively around his waist.

"It's- " comes Cho's voice, just as hesitant as his touch, as if he's forgotten how to speak in the last few moments, or as if the words he's about to say are the most difficult one's he's ever uttered. "It's all... right. It's all right. I- I forgive you."

Gojyo holds his breath, because fuck, Jesus fuck, that does not sound like play acting. Christ.

"I don't-" Cho keeps going haltingly. "I don't mind that you did it. I don't hate you."

Gojyo shivers at that, like the words are going further than he wants them to go, and he doesn't like the sensation.

"Mister Garehorn," he sniffs. "Please punish me. If you punish me, I'll feel better."

"I don't want to punish you," Cho argues gently. "I don't hate you. That's all right, isn't it?"

Gojyo feels another shiver works its way down his spine and nods into the crook of Cho's shoulder.

"That's good. I'm glad," Cho sighs. "Why don't you... Why don't you turn around. Come on. There's a good girl."

Gojyo does as ordered, shifting around on Cho's lap until his legs are spread either side of Cho's thighs, and fuck, he's worn – and not worn – all manner of things before, but this is really starting to turn him on. He wriggles a little more as Cho's hands skate from his waist to his hips to his thighs, and his fingers brush the skin exposed above Gojyo's stockings just below the hem of his skirt. They linger there for a moment, just drawing back and forth across his thigh, soft passes that make Gojyo squirm or sigh, possibly both. He settles for spreading his legs a little wider in encouragement and presses his ass back and down onto Cho's lap as Cho's hand's finally start exploring the territory under the skirt.

"Oh," Cho says when his hands are high enough to know what he's talking about. "You're not wearing anything."

"No," Gojyo says, a little breathlessly, and it's not completely an act. "Was that bad of me?"

"Not at all," Cho assures, his voice soft. "I like it. I like the way you feel."

"And I like the way you feel," he confesses, grinding against Cho's erection and almost gasping at the way Cho's hands clamp down on his thighs, unexpectedly strong.

"If you do that-" Cho starts, his voice a little uneven. "If you do that, you might hurt yourself. I wouldn't want that."

Oh, the zip. The buttons on his trousers. "Let me," Gojyo says, fast and eager enough that he's probably leaving professionalism well behind at this point but you know what? Fuck it. He starts to roll forward in order to get up so he can turn around and get at Cho's fly.

"No," Cho says, sounding a lot more like the figure of authority he's supposed to be playing and Gojyo freezes without even quite meaning to. "Sit forward. Don't move."

Gojyo nods, and leans forwards a little, bracing himself on Cho's knees. And then he has to bite his lip, because Cho's not going for his fly, he's lifting Gojyo's skirt at the back.

"Oh," Gojyo breathes, as Cho's hands roam slowly and comprehensively all over his bare ass. "Oh, fuck."

"Does it feel good?" Cho asks him, almost but not quite distant, as if he's too distracted by what he's doing to be truly interested in the answer.

"Uh, yeah," Gojyo says and swallows. "You have... Your hands feel amazing."

"How much preparation do you need?"

Gojyo shivers and tells himself to get over it already. It's not like he hasn't done almost exactly this a hundred times before, and this guy seems a fair bit more experienced than most so it might just be that Gojyo's in for a half decent ride for a change.

"Not that much, to be honest."

"Then do it," Cho tells him. "I want to watch."

Holy shit. Okay. Fuck. Gojyo braces on one hand and reaches to one side and fumbles for the lube with the other, pops the cap open with his teeth and squeezes some of its contents onto his fingers before dropping it carelessly between Cho's feet. Then he snakes his hand around behind himself, slick fingers dipping down between his cheeks and finding his asshole, and he would make a show of it, he honestly would, but he's actually too turned on. He just pushes straight in, one finger to start with, and then very shortly after, two, all the while feeling Cho's hands roaming incessantly over his flesh.

"God," Cho murmurs. "Look at you. You look so _good_."

Gojyo hangs his head and fights to get his heart rate under control again even while he pushes and twists and scissors his fingers to slick himself up.

"Are you hard? Does this make you hard?"

Okay, forget the whole heart rate under control thing; he's having trouble just getting a breath.

"Yeah, I-" he husks. "Yeah. Why don't you touch me and see?"

"Not yet," Cho says, and his hands are gone from Gojyo's ass and then Gojyo can feel him fumbling around somewhere in the vicinity of his lap.

"Condom," Gojyo gets out. "Table. Fuck. Come on."

"Be quiet," Cho tells him, and there might even be the hint of amusement in his voice. "Or I'll have to spank you."

Gojyo's fingers must slip and hit his prostate dead on then, because what else would explain the jolt that goes through him?

"Okay," he gasps. "I'm sorry."

"That's better," Cho murmurs. "Now, get this off. Does this come off?" He's pulling at Gojyo's skirt and Gojyo leaves off the prep and nods quickly.

"There's a fastening on the si-"

"Ah," Cho says as he finds the Velcro on the skirt and tugs it open all the way down, and then the stupid thing is sliding off and falling to the floor and Gojyo is naked from navel to thigh.

"Oh," Cho says again, reverently. "Look at you."

Gojyo has had enough of the looking, God damn it.

"Can I- Can I sit back again, Sir? Please?"

"Yes," Cho says, and one hand is back on Gojyo's skin, palm pressed flat against his spine for balance as Gojyo slowly eases back. He can feel the head of Cho's cock pressing at his hole, trusts that Cho is keeping them lined up as he carefully lets himself down onto Cho's lap.

"Oh God, oh God," Cho is saying rhythmically. "God, you're just taking me. Look at that. That's incredible. You feel so good."

Cho doesn't feel half bad himself, Gojyo thinks hazily. In fact, he feels so good that once he's seated completely, Gojyo has to pause a minute, and it's not actually for Cho's sake that he's doing so.

"Move," Cho tells him, and Gojyo doesn't know if they're still role playing or if this is the real Cho now or what, but he wants to move so he does. He reaches back and braces himself on whatever parts of Cho he can reach, and then he pushes himself up, letting Cho slide out a little, only so he can just push himself back down on him again.

"Fuck," he breathes, and shudders. That is right against his prostate and it's possible the stay-in who never gets any _isn't_ going to be the one who comes first here.

"Again," Cho says breathily. "Oh, God please. Again."

Gojyo does not have to be asked; he's already doing it, rolling up and down on Cho's dick like he was the one who paid Cho, instead of the other way around. He can feel Cho's forehead pressing against his spine between his shoulder blades, can feel his hands clenching rhythmically into Gojyo's body as Gojyo moves and Gojyo wishes he'd do something else, touch him somewhere else, hold him and-

"Say you like it," Cho moans and suddenly he is touching Gojyo elsewhere, pushing one hand around and up under the tight little high school vest Gojyo is wearing, bunching the fabric up all the way to his collarbone and then fingering at one of Gojyo's nipples, pressure just shy of too much.

"Fuuuuck," Gojyo moans back, and whatever's left of his thinking brain is pretty much just focused on fucking himself on Cho's cock until one of them comes, hopefully him. "I like it. I really fucking like it."

"You're just saying that," Cho tells him, "because I told you to. Because I'm paying you."

Gojyo shakes his head. "No. No. It's true. It's true. Christ, you're-"

"Then tell me," Cho insists. "Be a good boy and tell me what you want me to do. If you like it, then what do you want?"

Gojyo can't even think straight anymore, so it's not like he intends to argue.

"Fucking Christ," he grates, dropping himself back down on Cho's cock hard, trying to get more of it, as much as possible. "Fuck me. Come on. Please. Give it to me. I want it. I want it."

And if he'd been thinking straight, if he'd been wondering what kind of game this was they were playing now, he would have expected Cho to drag it out even further, but he doesn't. Instead he says, "Come here, then," and pulls Gojyo back against him and puts his other hand around Gojyo's cock and fucks up into him, harder still, as he strokes his fist down.

Gojyo sucks in a breath and feels his toes curl and his thighs shake and he can hear himself chanting, "Yes, yes, yes," as Cho does it again and again. And then he feels Cho's face against the side of his neck, his breath on his ear and hears him whisper, "Come." He bites down on Gojyo's earlobe, not hard enough to be painful, but hard enough, and like he's been trained to heel, Gojyo's body shudders and locks up and he comes.

It's one of those orgasms that he really doesn't have all that often any more. They're still nice, of course, but this one feels like it's coming from his toes and is wrecking everything in its path along the way. He can hear himself making dumb, helpless groaning sounds, sounds that no self-respecting whore would ever make for a client, can hear himself mewling as Cho milks him through the last of it, and he can't even get it together enough to understand what Cho's saying against his skin until he gasps like he's dying and suddenly drags Gojyo down hard into his lap and holds him there and shakes and gasps almost soundlessly against Gojyo's shoulder.

And then he relaxes and lets Gojyo go all at once, as if he has died, although Gojyo can hear him breathing.

Holy shit. Wow. It's always the quiet ones isn't it. That was possibly the best sex Gojyo's had in years. But he's working here. As good as that was on a personal level, he has a job to do and he's not finished yet.

"Don't move, okay?" he says softly, and reaches underneath him to secure the condom so he can pull off. Once that's done, he gets up on legs that are actually a little bit shaky and gets the condom off his client, ties it off and takes it over to the sink – again, a space that is usually like a nuclear fallout in most stay-in apartments but is weirdly neat and hygienic here – finds the bin and disposes of the used rubber. Then he hunts around for a suitable looking cloth to run under warm water so he can clean the both of them up.

"There's a shower, you know," Cho says faintly from where he's still sitting at the table. "I don't mind if you use it."

Gojyo looks around, and then looks back at Cho. And has to stop again, because Cho's just sitting there, legs spread, pants open, looking a little well used and Gojyo likes that a lot more than he probably should.

"Yeah?" he says, frowning. "Um, where?"

Cho sighs and gets up and without doing up his trousers, walks over to one of the bookcases and pulls out a book.

And the shelf swings outwards and, well, how about that? A secret bathroom. Impressive.

"Well, look at you, Bruce Wayne," Gojyo teases. "I think you're reading the wrong comics."

Cho looks at him, a little surprised. "Well, yes. I suppose that's true," he agrees, and Gojyo thinks he almost sees a smile, although if it's there, it's not very big. "You'll find towels and toiletries in the cupboard on the left. Help yourself."

"Uh, okay," Gojyo says, and pauses to strip off his shirt because it feels less weird wearing just stockings than it does wearing stockings and a shirt. "Thanks." He gives Cho a smile as he passes by him into the bathroom, but when he turns, Cho is still standing there, holding the door open.

"You don't think it's strange, do you, me living like this," he says, and it's not really a question, so Gojyo doesn't bother to answer like it is.

"What's strange, anyway?" he shrugs. "The old woman two floors down from me keeps leaving the door open to let out her dog that's been gone two years anyway. The guy at my local shop thinks my name is Gordon, no matter how many times I tell him it's not. My mum used to beat on me because she hated my dad, my brother left when he was seventeen and never came back, and I have sex with strangers for money because it's the only thing I'm really good at. People do whatever they got to. That doesn't make you strange, buddy. It just makes you the same as everyone else - human."

Gojyo leans out and gently pulls the door out of Cho's grip, closing the door on Cho's pale face. He has no idea what that look was that was just on Cho's face, but whatever put it there, maybe it's the same reason Gojyo's hands are shaking as he strips off his stockings and turns on the taps.

Maybe some things are just too honest, Gojyo supposes as he ducks under the fine, warm spray and stays there like it could drown him. In contrast, sex is the easy part.

++++

When he gets out of the shower, wrapped in one of Cho's nice big, clean towels, he steps out into the main room and discovers Cho's gone. He's nonplussed about that for a second, completely not expecting it, but okay, stay-ins don't stay in twenty four seven, necessarily, so maybe Cho just decided right now was the time to go buy his monthly supplies from the closest convenience. Or maybe he just didn't want to be here where Gojyo reappeared. Fair enough. Gojyo's a big boy. He can handle the rejection.

He tells himself to just forget it and goes to fetch his bag with his change of clothes, and just as he bends down to pick it up from where he dropped it, he hears a noise. He turns towards it, and there, on the other side of the little kitchenette, is another secret bookcase door thing, not so secret now that it's standing ajar.

Gojyo frowns and makes his way over to it, and if it looks like he's sneaking, it's just that he doesn't want to startle Cho in whatever he's doing. It's probably just his bedroom or somethi-

Holy shit. It's not a bedroom. It's a- It's a _shrine_. And there's Cho, kneeling on the floor in front of it, looking up at some urn on the display in front of him. Next to the urn is a picture. Gojyo can't quite make it out because of the glare on the glass from the overhead light, but he thinks it might be of a woman.

"I forgive you," he hears Cho say, sadly but with an odd sort of certainty in his tone. "I don't hate you. I love you and I forgive you. I didn't think I'd ever be able to say it, but actually, it isn't that hard after all."

Gojyo sucks in a shocked breath as his brain makes the connection at lightning speed. Holy shit. That's- And before, when they were... Holy shit.

He ducks back and turns and hurries back over to the other side of the room before Cho sees him. It's none of his business. Whatever that is, whatever was going on here tonight, it doesn't matter. He's just the good time, that's all. It's none of his business. He keeps his eyes down and gets dressed as quickly and quietly as he can, and then shoves his gear into his bag and just as he's looking up to check that he has everything, Cho emerges from the other room, sees him and stops.

Gojyo stops too. He has no idea what to say, but Cho only looks at him for a moment and then quietly closes the door.

"Did you hear that?" he asks after another moment, and Gojyo shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"No," he lies. "Hear what?"

"It doesn't worry me that you did," Cho says quietly. "The ashes are my sister's. She killed herself four years ago, in this very room."

Gojyo looks around him, like there'd still be bloodstains or something, as if he'd even want to see.

"Wow," he says. "That's- I'm sorry, man."

"Yes," Cho agrees. "I was sorry too. Sorry I didn't save her. Sorry I let her live like this. Sorry, mostly I suppose, that I couldn't forgive her for what she did."

Gojyo stares at him, slowly fitting the pieces together.

"So you, what? Shut yourself in like she did? Because you didn't help her?"

"Something like that."

"That's-" Gojyo starts again, but he just can't finish. That's the saddest thing he's possibly ever heard.

"But I don't think I can do it anymore," Cho continues, and maybe he just doesn't understand the expression Gojyo thinks is probably on his face right now, or maybe he just doesn't want to acknowledge it. "And I think she'd probably understand, don't you?"

Gojyo swallows against the burn in his throat and nods and tries to smile.

"Yeah, man. Yeah, I think she would."

Cho smiles, actually smiles. It's not much of one, but it's enough to recognise it. It's such a difference to how he looked before, it's like it lights up his whole face, the whole room. He was attractive before, but he is utterly beautiful now, and Gojyo suddenly wants to see what he looks like when he's really smiling, when he's laughing, when he's laughing so hard there are tears in his eyes and his stomach is hurting and Gojyo is right there, hurting along with him.

"So, I was wondering," Cho starts slowly, "whether you were going elsewhere from here, and whether it would be all right to maybe walk with you? It's just, I haven't really been outside in a while, and I think I'd like to go for a walk."

Gojyo lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding, and feels himself smiling- No, grinning.

"Well, yeah," he says, trying and failing to play it cool. "I was totally just about to knock off for the night. Go get a couple of drinks to wind down. Do you drink?"

"I used to," Cho admits. "I was quite partial to a decent scotch, actually."

Gojyo laughs at that. Maybe it's not a joke, but it doesn't really matter.

"Yeah? Cool. I'm more of a bourbon guy myself, but that doesn't mean we have to be mortal enemies. Why don't you, uh, get a coat. It's kind of cool out. Little wet. Sort of miserable really, but it's quieter on nights like this. Sometimes it feels like you're the only person out there, you know?"

Cho is moving, opening another bookcase and drawing out a coat, shrugging into it and coming over to where Gojyo is still standing.

"Well, it'll feel just like home then, I suppose," he points out with another small smile.

"Cool," Gojyo says stupidly, because there's something in him, something huge and warm and happy and he doesn't know what it is yet, but he wants it. He wants it so bad he can almost taste it. "I'm uh, Gojyo. That's my name."

"Gojyo," Cho says. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Hakkai."

"Hey, Hakkai," Gojyo says, smiling back. "Nice to meet you too. Shall we?"

He turns for the door, reaches it, pulls it open, and feels Hakkai's hand on his arm, stopping him. For a second, his heart seems to stop too.

"Gojyo," Hakkai says softly. "Before. I wasn't imagining you were someone else."

Someone else? Gojyo opens his mouth to make a joke about the fact that he doesn't exactly get around in a cheerleader's skirt in his own time, and then shuts it again when he realises Hakkai's not talking about the cast of Rio-Rio.

"No?" he says, not looking at Hakkai, not even daring to.

"No," Hakkai repeats. "And I very much want you to understand that."

"Okay," Gojyo says, a little unsteadily, then takes a deep breath and flashes Hakkai a cheeky smile. "Guess that means Rio-Rio Jinny can retire for the night then."

Hakkai raises an eyebrow at him and gently and meaningfully squeezes his arm where he's still touching him.

"Oh, I should think she can retire permanently," he says mildly. "Shall we negotiate over those drinks you mentioned?"

Gojyo stares back at him, and what is he saying? That he wants to be Gojyo's sole school headmaster?

Honestly. Shut-ins are so _weird_.

Gojyo pulls the door open all the way, steps out into the hall, and tugs his shut-in with him, out of the building, out into the street, out into night and life and whatever the hell is supposed to happen next.


End file.
